A Book's Cover
by Pinned back Wings
Summary: Guinevere is seemingly living an ordinary life, filled with books and less with friends, but on a sunny day in New York, New York she is cornered by none other than Nick Fury and Agent Coulson. And apparently they need her; however, what do they need her for? And what will happen to her when her usefulness runs out? OC/? Third & Fourth categories are: romance and hurt/comfort.


**A Book's Cover**

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_"You want to remember that while you're judging the book, the book is also judging you." ~Stephen King_

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Chapter One: Mediocrity

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New York, New York was a busy city - a bustling city, one always filled with life, and where no one's life was ever dull - there were groups of chattering women, all huddling together like a brood of hens. In one such brood there were five women in total: three blondes, one fierce red head, and a dulling brunette. One blonde followed in the steps of the other women, their shadows overpowering her clothed figure. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun that toppled on the top of her head while her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose. As the other women turned into the next clothing store, the younger girl kept on walking - her head promptly shoved into a book as she wandered down the busy streets.

Many passersby turned their head as they watched the strange woman go by until she pivoted on her heel, striking her palm against the glasses door, and pushed it open. The familiar chime of a small bell sounded as she entered the store, and the evermore familiar smell of old books wafted into her nose.

"Oh! Guinevere, what are you doing walking the busy streets with your nose pile driven into a book?" Without missing a beat, Guinevere pushed open the counter (an eerie swish was made, and the scratching of oak against oak,) and settled on the old wicker stool standing behind it.

"Not just any book Ms. White, _War and Peace_ by Leo Tolstoy; it's a great read, you should try it." Ms. White scooped up the thick bound book before closing it, turning it to the back and scowling at the young girl.

"_My copy?_" Her voice was shrill, more so than usual. Guinevere rolled her eyes before getting a wallop upside the head, compliments of the elderly woman standing next to her, "try acting more like a young lady and perhaps you'd get some friends." Guinevere snorted, using the back of her hand to shield her mouth.

"I have friends," she waved her hands around the room, the walls teeming with books and novels, "we share a common thing you see - we are used, stuffed on shelves, and forgotten - these are better friends than I could ever hope for."

"Well, with an attitude like that... of course you're not going to!" Ms. White shuffled over to the 'T section' before stuffing _War and Peace_ back upon the shelf, "now be a dear and close down the shop when you get a chance? Around eight should be good! Thank you dear, and remember that your rent is due in three days!" And with that Ms. White was out the door, taking along with her an umbrella and her purse.

"Like we ever get any customers anyways!" Guinevere called after her, a scowl turning her upturned lips down. Getting up from her stool once again, she went to the 'T section' and pulled _War and Peace _back from the shelf, turning to the page from which she left, and began to re-read the sentence once again.

And she began to read aloud: "Pierre was right when he said that one must believe in the possibility of happiness in order to be happy, and I now believe in it. Let the dead bury the dead, but while I'm alive, I must live and be happy." Humming to herself, Guinevere tapped her fingers on the counter before hearing the familiar ring once again.

"Welcome, please _do_ have a look around." Her voice was sharp and annoyed; she was getting to the good part and someone had to interrupt her. Of course they did. She didn't bother to look up, the lumbering footsteps of two distinct people - men most likely, the weight being placed more on the ball of their foot than anywhere else - and they were coming directly towards the counter. God, what did they need? Could they not direct themselves around the shop themselves? It was pretty easy to find the books one needed - just needed to know the author.

"Oh, how can I serve you?" With a rather bored look, she tipped her eyes up to meet angry eyes - well, eye.

"Are you Guinevere Eileen Johnson?"

"Depends, who do you work for?" Guinevere leaned back on her stool, her hand pressed underneath the counter at an attempt to find the alarm button. She didn't need to - _no, I won't do it; I don't need to. These men aren't going to hurt me, I don't need to hurt them._

"If you come with us, we can explain to you on the way."

"On the way? Where would we be going gentlemen?" Her paranoia was spiking, escalating - she saw the buzzing in the air, and God be damned if she _it _was calling her to use it once again. It was the shifting in the light that caught her eye, and stayed it - she shuttered.

"Agent Couslon, allow me," the one-eyed, trenched in leather from head to foot spoke up finally; his voice was more intimidating than she imagined, "we know what you are and what you can do Guinevere - we need you."

That didn't settle her; was that his aim? Was that suppose to calm her? No. Her thoughts were now running a mile a minute and she was forcing herself to catch up.

"No," she breathed out finally, "if you know what I am, you know that I have trouble controlling it - you should know better than anyone if you _know what I am_." She spat the words out, like it was venom that forced her mouth to be bitter. Agent Couslon looked back and forth between the two, clear confusion on his features. Guinevere snorted, her anxiety fluttering away by the sight of pure confusion in the other man's eyes.

"Would that me a yes then?"

"What if I continue to say no?"

"Then I will persuade you to say yes." Guinevere breathed out a deep seeded breath before looking towards the closed Tolstoy novel on the counter.

"I'm going to pack a night bag then, yes?"

"You won't be needing an over-night bag ma'am." The Agent saluted her, and then looked sheepish as he stared at his own hand. Guinevere's thick brow was raised through her bangs.

"A brief visit then? Sounds... jolly good." Her voice was sardonic and crude, making the Agent flinch ever so slightly. She smirked before hearing Patchy sigh deeply. She could almost hear his thoughts, _this is going to be a long trip back._

**AN: I hope you've enjoyed the short introductory chapter of my OC. Now, in the reviews: which character would you like to see her with? And can you guess what her power is? ;) I wanna see if anyone can guess it!  
Hope you've enjoyed! I'll be updating soon.**


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